


Hermione is an owl

by JonRiptide



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Animal Transformation, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:08:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28558119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JonRiptide/pseuds/JonRiptide
Summary: Hermione is turned into an owl
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 12
Kudos: 17





	1. Avifors

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. DISCLAIMER. The obvious. I do not own anything. Thanks to Ms Rowling for giving us such wonderful stories, even if I don't agree on her recent statements.
> 
> 2\. I wanted to experiment with this fic. First, I did not get a beta, so this is pure me. Let me know if the reading is too dreadful. Any small nitpick you find feel free to tell me, I actually appreciate those since I can fix errors.
> 
> 3\. The other way I experimented with this was that I think the main focus here is going to be the pairing. I'm not good at romance but realized I need to have something believable as side stories on my other ideas, so I see this is practice of sorts. For all I know, I can really suck at this but will give it a go.
> 
> 4\. To those who follow me, I know I am slow but I promise I am still here. Beta has been busy but anyways you can follow the status of things on my profile.
> 
> 5\. I took this from a reddit prompt "prompt_gof_what_if_im_not_an_owl" by /u/Only_Excuse7425
> 
> 6\. I usually do books but I think this is from the movies

"Honestly Ron, you're not making any sense."

As it was usually the case at that time of the day, the library was packed. Even more so now that it had to serve a considerable amount of foreign students as well. Hermione didn't want to have this argument here, of all places, but she knew it was long overdue.

Without slowing her pace, she skimmed the third shelf to her right and swiftly found the book spine she had been looking for. After shaking the dust off from the book's cover, Hermione put it on top of the other two she had and then, with a small effort, she picked them all up. Of course, she found Ron's frown waiting for her as she turned around.

"Neither of you is," she clarified.

Hasty steps took her in the opposite direction, as she made her best to avoid the argument. She knew Ron wasn't about to give up though. Not even close.

"What's that supposed to mean?" the boy asked, as he followed.

Hermione rolled her eyes before letting the books down with a thud on the first empty desk she found, "What it means…" she said, turning to her friend. A young boy from Hufflepuff rushed by their side, Hermione waited until he was out of earshot before staring directly into Ron's eyes, "It means that all of this is beyond idiotic. You miss him and he could certainly use your help right now. But instead, you're stubbornly ignoring each other. All because of some stupid sense of pride."

For a moment, Ron's frown faded. Although, when it came back, it did so with a grunt, "He's the one being a prat! If he just told me how he did it, things would be done with. I wouldn't mind."

"If he just told you what exactly?"

"How he put his name in," Ron said, looking down to his trainers.

"Oh, please! You don't really believe that."

"'Course I do!"

It was Hermione's turn to frown as she stared at Ron harshly. "Are you going to stand there and tell me that you actually believe Harry put his name in the Goblet of Fire? For real? Because, if that's so, you better not look away when you do it."

That took Ron aback for a tic. Hermione held his look, daring him to lie to her face.

"I, er..."

His hesitation was all that Hermione needed. "Thought so," she said as she took a seat and opened the first book. Ron sighed and sat across from her in defeat, letting his shoulders down. Ten seconds later, unable to focus on her work, Hermione raised her eyes, "Just tell me one thing, Ron. Did you ever believe it? Or were you mad about something else?"

"Something else? Like what?"

That was the question, wasn't it? No matter what Ron said, it always felt like an absurdity that he actually believed Harry put his name in the goblet. It would require an impressive amount of magic to bypass Dumbledore's protections, a level of magic Ron was properly aware Harry did not possess. Then there was no motive, quite the opposite. Unlike some of the other boys who daydreamed about quick glory, Harry had never expressed a serious desire to be part of that blasted tournament. And, if by some barmy chance Harry had had the means and motive to do so, he would have totally told Ron about it beforehand. She was positive about it. Maybe Harry could have feared telling her, especially considering the firebolt incident from last year, but Ron was his eternal partner in crime.

Ron knew all that by heart. As clearly as he knew the Cannons' lineup.

Then why had he reacted as he did? Why had he put a strain on his friendship with Harry if deep down he knew Harry hadn't lied? Was he just being irrational? There was some of it for sure, but that wasn't the sole reason. Hermione, who knew Ron as well as she knew Harry, had a solid idea of what the problem might be.

"I don't know…" she started, eyeing him reluctantly. She riffled lazily through the book's pages, pretending to be focusing on her school assignment. "Maybe you were jealous of the attention."

"Jealous!? Me?"

Hermione turned to him swiftly, hurrying the words, "I'm not saying it in a bad sense. It's perfectly normal that—"

"You're barking," Ron huffed, "It was what it was. There's nothing more to it."

There was red on his ears, something Hermione didn't miss. It made sense he was ashamed of those feelings and, quite frankly, Hermione didn't know how to make him talk about it without making him feel embarrassed. So she dropped it.

"Fine," she said, grabbing parchment and quill.

As she scribbled forcibly through her Charms work, Hermione was quite aware of Ron's presence. She didn't dare to raise her face, yet she knew he was staring at her. It made the sound of her quill loud and unnerving.

Harry did get more attention than Ron, there was just no way around it. However, it wasn't like Harry aimed for that. It just happened. Ron shouldn't envy his friend's position anyway, it was far from a simple stride down the lake. And besides, Ron was just as brave and admirable himself, people just hadn't seen what she and Harry had. They didn't know him.

There were insecurities that Ron needed to overcome, that much had been plain since the day they met. Hermione would like to help him with that but she hadn't found out how just yet. Every time she had tried to push him to be better in school so he could get the attention he craved, Ron would just whine about her being bossy or about the whole task being too much hard work. Every time she had tried to have a more meaningful conversation with him, he would just hide behind a joke.

All of this was even more tangly with her newfound feelings.

Hermione fancied Ron, there was no denying that now. She had realized it by the end of the last term and had struggled with accepting it over the summer. As mad as it sounded, something in their stupid row over their pets had started it. She had found herself suddenly deprived of Ron's company and she noticed how void her days felt without him. Making amends with Ron followed by the boy standing for them against Sirius — broken leg and all — was what had finally made it for her. It led her down a path where she couldn't go a day without stealing a glance at him, wondering...

And there he was, a headstrong boy who thought no one noticed him.

Hermione spared a wistful look at him, only to return swiftly to her parchment the next moment. She wasn't sure what she could do about her feelings. Should she pursue something more than a friendship with Ron? Wouldn't that be putting what they already had in danger? Moreover, there was no indication that Ronald would be willing to have that kind of relationship with her. After the Quidditch World Cup and the arrival of the Beauxbatons students, Hermione realized he was susceptible to girlish ways, much to her dismay and annoyance. However, she kept hope that those were only normal reactions and that, when the time came for him to seriously set his eyes on a girl, a simple looking one like herself might have a chance.

With a barely perceptible snort, she put the thought away. With the tournament and the current strand in Harry's and Ron's friendship, the time for that wasn't even close. She needed to first return things to the way they used to be, then, when the opportunity came to know Ron's true feelings for her, she only hoped things would flow smoothly. With some luck, she wouldn't let the opportunity pass when it came by.

"It's not a big deal. You can easily do this," Ron finally broke the silence what seemed like an eternity after.

Hermione fixed herself a stern look. Unwilling to comply with him this time. She knew what he wanted, he had insisted more than enough already. More reason why seeing him be at odds with Harry made no sense at all.

"You could tell him yourself."

"He won't listen to me."

"He will."

Ron snorted, "Yeah, right. If I go begging his forgiveness and the like."

"Oh, for crying out loud!"

Across the library, Madame Pince cleared her throat and threw them a look. Hermione felt ashamed, there was a reason why she didn't want to have this discussion in the library. But no, Ronald Weasley couldn't wait for her to finish her work.

Hermione sighed, gathering all of her willpower to avoid frowning at Ron. "You know Harry isn't like that. He does want you to admit you did wrong and is being as thick as you are, I won't deny it," she said, her voice as low as a whisper. "However, he won't be a prat about it. You know him. He wants this fixed as much as you do. And, at any rate, why does it matter? Just say you're sorry if that's what he wants. You did start this."

A frown appeared on Ron's face, one he was trying hard not to lose. "It's just a simple thing Hermione, and it's for his own good. Do you want him to get killed out there?"

"Do you?"

Ron couldn't hold her look. "Forget it, I'll ask someone else."

Was he for real? Why couldn't he be done with this already? Boys were such obnoxious beings.

Suddenly, Hermione found herself wishing she could fly to her dorms and read in silence there, it was preferable to be convinced of doing something that by all means Ron should do himself. She couldn't fool herself though, Hermione knew she might sooner grow a pair of wings and actually fly to the Gryffindor tower than say no to Ron when he gave her that pleading look.

Against her better judgement, she relented, once more, "It's the last time I do something like this for you. And you two better sort this out rather quickly or I swear I'll…"

"Brilliant! You're the best, Hermione. I knew I could count on you," he said with the widest of smiles. It was the same smile Hermione always looked for whenever she agreed to this sort of thing. The pink that crept to her cheeks would have been incredibly hard to hide had she not stood up at once.

As she went to put her books away, she noticed Ron's smug expression through the corner of her eye. "Aren't we going? Because I have tons of work to do otherwise," she warned him, pulling off an irked tone.

"Yeah, let's go."

And so they did.

"You sure he came this way? He may be back at the Common Room by now," Hermione asked as they walked down to the Lake.

"Colin said so. If there's someone who can be trusted with Harry's location, that's him," Ginny answered.

Hermione took a deep breath and carried forward, she wasn't sure what barmy thought had come to her when she had agreed to this. It was so immature, and childish. She shouldn't be speaking for him, she wasn't his mother. If she had had a better sense, she would have refused, as Ginny did.

Being fair, probably Ginny had her own reasons to avoid talking to Harry. After her two first years, the girl had come a long way into figuring out who she was, however, she only talked to Harry when others were around.

"There he is."

It seemed Colin was indeed a reliable source about Harry's whereabouts. Hermione's friend was leaning against a tree, looking at the lake. Neville was by his side.

"Can't we just say Hagrid is looking for him?" she asked Ron.

"Stick to the plan, Hermione. Less suspicious that way. Parvati told Dean, then Dean told Seamus," he whispered.

At the shore, Harry had just noticed them. He stood up with an uneven jolt, looking at them as if wondering what were they all doing there. Hermione asked herself the same thing.

"Dean… AND Seamus?... We've already been through enough people, why don't you just go and do it yourself?" Hermione suggested as a last hope. The look she got from Ron made clear that that wasn't going to happen, "Ughh. What do you want me to say again?"

"Parvati told Dean about Hagrid, then Dean told Seamus," he repeated.

Hermione's feet felt heavy as she made her way to Harry, who walked to meet her.

"Ronald would like me to tell you... that Seamus told him... that Dean was told by Parvati... that Hagrid was looking for you," she managed to say.

"Is that right? Well..." Harry turned to Ron looking for a frown, but his expression turned baffled instead as he tried to figure out Hermione's words. "What?"

Precisely. Why was she doing this again? Oh, true, the boy she fancied had given her a look she didn't have the will to say no to.

"Uhhh…" she muttered, before walking back to Ron. He was looking impassive as Hermione whispered to him, "Are you sure you can't talk this through?"

"No," he answered flatly, not taking his eyes away from Harry, "Parvati told Dean, and Dean told Seamus. It's simple. He'll buy it."

Obviously.

Hermione headed back to Harry, exasperated by now, "Dean was told by Parvati that…" she started, but there was just no point to it, "Please don't ask me to say it again. Hagrid's looking for you."

She was already making her way back, annoyed at what these stubborn boys were putting her through, when Harry spoke, "Well, you can tell Ronald…"

_Oh, for Merlin's sake…_

"I'm NOT an owl!" she shouted as she turned back to him.

Hermione wanted to be out of there. She should be going back to the library to finish that Charms essay, it was what she was supposed to be doing in the first place. That had been before she got convinced by Ron's pleading tone, again. She started walking back to Ron and Ginny, trying not to murder the ginger boy with the look.

Then she heard Harry laugh.

Unable to believe it, she turned back to him. Here she was trying to help these two unyielding prats get somewhere and he was laughing at her. Granted, it was a faint laugh, and he was trying to contain it… but still, the nerve!

"What's so funny?" she asked.

Harry's eyes widened, "Er, nothing, it's not— Not this, I'm sorry. It's just—"

"What?" she demanded.

For a brief moment, Harry hesitated, then he decided it was safer to answer, "Nothing, it's stupid. You said you weren't an owl, and it reminded me... Just the other day I was thinking that I don't know as many spells as the other champions, only simple ones, like the one McGonagall taught us last year,"

"Which one?"

"The one with the birds," he said, trying to smile. He then pulled out his wand and just waved it around lazily, as if trying to make her remember, "You know, _Avifors_ ," he said.

And, just like that, it happened. Whatever point Harry was trying to make, it surely got lost along the way, because he had unintentionally turned that spell onto Hermione. There was a blue light coming from the tip of Harry's wand, then Hermione felt the world moving farther away from her. She felt woozy and tried to shout, yet she couldn't. Someone was calling her name from afar, but she couldn't tell who it was. The figures were growing away from her as if she was shrinking to the floor. As that happened, the images became sharper and clearer but, at the same time, their colours were getting muted. That was at least her perception before everything went dark.

"What did you do!" Ron shouted somewhere in the distance.

"Nothing! I don't know…" Harry's frightened voice echoed dully.

"Don't give me that crap!" Ron fumed.

"What happened?" Neville's voice came with the sound of his footsteps.

"This git! He attacked Hermione!"

"I didn't!"

" I was here, I saw you!" Ron insisted, "She's gone."

Was she? The world had gone dark indeed but she could still hear them. A light headache came to her, but she wasn't unconscious. Hermione could also feel something on top of her, a quilt of sorts, something that was clearly too heavy for her body. Calling for them was her first thought, but her voice couldn't form the words, only some vague chipping sounds.

"What was that?" Ron asked.

"It came from her clothes," Ginny said.

The rustling noises came closer and closer until they were just above her.

"What? What did you hear?" Ron asked.

"I—I'm not sure, but look, something's moving," said Ginny.

The next thing Hermione knew was that the burdening weight which had been on top of her was removed, then, a blinding light put the dark away. Something hovered above her, and when Hermione realized what it was, her heart almost came to a stop. Large faces looked down on her, they were at least as large as a house.

Hermione screamed, or at least she tried to, because the sound that came out of her was something between a whistle and a howl. A gasp, which seemed to come from Ginny, was heard way louder than Hermione.

"Bloody hell! Is that…" Ron muttered.

"It's an owl," Neville said, his voice had a certain bewilderment to it.

An owl? What owl? Where? What did that have to do with anything?

Suddenly, the large faces on top of her came into focus. They were almost black and white, with only the faintest tone of colour. Startled, Hermione realized that those faces belonged to Ginny, Ron and Neville. She tried to yell something at them, however, her voice just wasn't there. All that came out of her were these high-pitched hooting noises. Hermione was perplexed, had she been shrunk down? Why were they so big?

She tried to find an explanation, and there was only one. Something did this to her. What was that spell Harry had used again? _Avifors_? And they had mentioned an owl… Hermione turned to her side, searching for her arm; instead, she found a brown wing.

_Harry Potter! You wait till I can use my wand again…_

What had he been thinking?! That spell wasn't meant for human use! It was already a small wonder that it seemed to have worked without backfiring horribly.

"Is that her?" Harry asked, leaning behind Neville.

"Why do you care?" spat Ron at him.

"That's not fair. She's my friend too, I didn't want to—"

But Ron turned to him and stopped him in his tracks, "You didn't want what? Turn her into an owl? It would have been rather easy not to. Just don't bloody cast an owl transfiguration spell on her!"

Hermione hooted as loud as she could. This was the worst possible time for them to continue their arguments. Wasn't their stupid conflict what had caused this in the first place? If it weren't for these two boys bumping their heads to one another, she would still have a human body.

Neville, bless him, was able to see that at least, "Er, Harry… Ron… do you think this is the time?"

With a nasty huff, Ron turned back to Hermione. He gave a curious look at her, then talked to his sister, "Is it her?"

Ginny, who hadn't stopped staring at Hermione, shugged. "Hermione, can you hear us? Is that you?" she asked.

There were many things Hermione had learned throughout the years, but she had never kept an owl as a pet, so she didn't know if owls could nod. Actually, she wasn't even sure what kind of owl she was yet. In spite of it, she tried to nod and hoot as convincingly as she was capable of, which was to say, pretty badly. Her hooting was dreadful and her nodding wasn't going to convince anyone. As if that weren't enough, she gave a step forward and lost her balance since unable to control her newfound talons, falling sideways in the process.

"Careful there," Ron said. He tried to help her up, however, he was having trouble deciding where to put his fingers.

At the end he picked her up from the outer side of her wings, using both hands. Hermione was very aware of Ron's big fingers on her ribs as he put her on top of a bundle of fabric which happened to be her clothes.

Marvellous, she wasn't only a sorry excuse for an owl, but she was starkers on top of it. Hermione was thankful for feathers, they didn't just cover her nakedness but they could hide her blushing as well. Even so, she tried to press her wings closer to her chest.

"What do you think?" Ginny asked Ron.

"Either it's her, or this owl is seriously bladdered."

It appeared as if owls were capable of frowning because she got a visible reaction from Ron. This was definitely not amusing to Hermione.

Suddenly, she remembered earlier when she wished she had wings in order to fly to her dorms. Had she somehow jinxed her luck herself? Did Fate happen to share a sense of humour with Fred and George?

Harry took a tentative step forward, "Er, Hermione? Sorry about this, I didn't mean it."

An unfriendly hoot and a violent battering of wings was the reward for Harry's words. His intentions weren't relevant at the moment when all Hermione could think about was that she had wings and a beak.

Neville waved his hand, trying to get her attention, "Hermione? If that's you… can you… I don't know, raise your right wing or something?"

Now that was a brilliant idea. Hermione raised her right wing clumsily, and everyone there exchanged a knowing look.

"Neat, it is her. Now what?" Ron asked.

After adjusting his glasses, Harry moved his wand forward, "Does someone know the counter spell for that one? I can try to—"

"No! Are you out of your mind?" Ginny shouted at once, putting a hand on his chest. Harry's eyes widened as he stared at her, that was certainly the first time Ginny had talked to him like that. The girl must have realized that, because she pulled her hand away and looked down, blushing, "Sorry, it's just… It could go wrong. And... you would be turning her back without clothes."

Harry's eyes widened at first but he eventually nodded, looking just as embarrassed as Ginny.

"What?!" Ron asked, scandalized, as his ears turned red.

"Her clothes are there, on the floor."

"Oh, yeah, right,"

Hermione was thankful for Ginny's presence. She didn't even want to think about what could've happened had Harry tried to counterspell at the moment.

"Let's go to Madam Pomfrey then, she'll know what to do," Harry suggested. He turned to Ginny as if waiting to see her reaction, but she didn't say anything this time.

"Alright. I'll carry these things, Ginny can take the rest of her clothes. Let's go, Hermione," Ron said, grabbing Hermione's coat and trainers as he put her wand in his pocket. Then he noticed the looks on him, "What? Owls can fly, can't they?"

Hermione wanted to roll her eyes. And this was the boy she fancied. He was worried about her and wanted to solve this soon, that much she could tell. But sometimes he got just too distracted to even consider putting himself on her spot.

"I reckon she hasn't had much time to practice," Neville said.

Hermione did give flying a try, just to indulge her pride. However, having wings and flying wasn't the same thing. Wings were a mess; Hermione couldn't get them to move as she wanted, and even if she had managed to do that, she had no idea how to take off.

"Oh, right. I'll take her then," Ron said, passing her coat and trainers to Neville. "At least I didn't hex her. She won't try to bite my fingers off."

Harry pretended not to hear him.

Before Hermione could protest, Ron picked her up awkwardly. With his hand on her back and her face resting against his chest, they headed towards the castle, with a completely different situation to the one they had when they first came out.


	2. Reparifarge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione is taken to the Hospital Wing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I did get someone's opinion for this one. Thanks to /u/romioneB for beating this one
> 
> 2\. Thanks for the reviews. Even when this is one of my stories with less priority and I haven't gone too serious into it, I did create a solid outline for it.
> 
> 3\. About my other stories, beta is kind of busy, but has the chaps already. I keep writing in the meanwhile
> 
> 4\. Also Twitter, where I put updates once in a while "@TimeTravelFFics"

The way back to the castle was such a blur that Hermione couldn't tell where she was for most of it. They crossed plenty of trees and students as they raced back inside, but the shapes moved too fast for her to distinguish them properly. It didn't help that Ron had her tightly pressed against him and most of what she could see were his chest and steady arms.

Surrounded as she was by him, all of Hermione's senses were focused solely on Ron. His heartbeat was all she could hear, and his fresh scent was all she could smell. Even the warm touch of his fingers fixed firmly to her feathers was impossible to ignore.

_Oh, just brilliant!_

Hermione was flustered. And at the worst possible of times at that. She had just been turned into an owl for Merlin's sake, why was she having such an awful time trying to put two thoughts together that didn't involve Ron? Or his unexpectedly loud heart for that matter?

Realizing how much he was clouding her thoughts, Hermione tried to put some space between her and Ron's chest. Unfortunately, that only let her know of the impossibly large distance to the floor, and begrudgingly made to cling back to Ron. It appeared as if she was the only owl in the world with a fear of heights, and rather small heights at that.

"Err… all good there?" Ron asked, noticing how she shifted about.

Hermione's only answer was to look away, wondering why on earth hadn't owls been bestowed with the ability to produce suitable huffs.

Considering what brought about her current plight, Hermione would have loved to say that she was furious at the moment, that she wouldn't have wanted anything more but to yell at Harry and Ron for their foolishness. However, the reality was quite different. The closeness of Ron and the uncertainty of what was going to happen now kept her more afraid than angry. Everything around her being so beastly in size now didn't help either.

She was an owl. An actual owl. And because of Avifors, of all basic spells. Well, what an absurd turn of events.

All of her life, Hermione had been quite respectful of the rules. She had been mindful of her father's words regarding muggle traffic laws so she wouldn't miss any when he taught her how to drive next year. In the same way, she knew she shouldn't do magic at home, so she didn't, regardless of how badly she wanted to practice some spells in advance. Naturally, Hermione found inconceivable the fact that Harry had used a spell clearly not meant for human targets in such a lazy manner. There was a reason for these limitations, horrible things could happen if spells weren't used accordingly. A thing that truly scared Hermione.

In normal conditions, the Avifors spell was quite easy to perform and reverse. However, it was meant only for simple objects and not the human body. Who knew what kind of things needed to be considered when countering the spell on a human. What if it was too risky to attempt? Or no one knew how to repair this? Could Hermione be stuck as an owl for a long period of time? Or possibly even permanently?

She didn't even want to entertain the idea.

"Madam Pomfrey! We need your help, Hermione has been jinxed!" Ron said once they stormed into the Hospital Wing.

The matron, being used to such calls, reacted promptly, "And where is she?"

Hermione didn't need to see their faces to know they were looking at each other awkwardly, wondering how to phrase the problem to the school's healer. Then, all of a sudden, Hermione felt all her world move, as Ron turned her around carelessly for the woman to witness.

"Ahem, well, she's here," he said.

Madam Pomfrey raised an eyebrow. She stared at them as if looking for a lie to be revealed. By the time she realized they were serious, her shoulders had tensed. "Please tell me that this is a joke."

Neville and Ginny shook their heads, their faces grim.

"Miss Granger?"

A quiet hoot echoed in the Hospital Wing. Hermione turned to Neville shifting her wings, who took a moment to understand what Hermione wanted him to ask, "Er, Hermione, can you raise your right wing?"

Hermione did so and the matron sighed, pulling a hand to her forehead. "I swear… Every time I think I've seen it all…" the woman muttered, then made a gesture to hurry them with her hand.

Ron placed her carefully onto a bed, which would have been unsteady to walk on even if Hermione had proper control of her talons. She dug her claws deep into the sheets, unintentionally ripping them, but at least she managed to find a stable stance. Once it looked like she wasn't going to fall, Hermione noticed the sudden cold. She wouldn't admit it out loud but she had enjoyed the ride in Ron's warm arms. In spite of it, Hermione let out an angry hoot once Ron spoke again.

"Er, she can't fly," the boy said, as if that was a relevant medical fact.

"She might be able to, but just doesn't know how yet," corrected Ginny.

"Are those her clothes?" Madam Pomfrey asked, noticing the bundle on Ginny's arms. The girl nodded.

The matron sighed heavily "I'll do what I can, but I'm no expert. Someone should get Professor McGonagall, Merlin knows she's more suited for this sort of situation."

As Madam Pomfrey ran some basic health checks on her, Hermione saw Ron muttering to Ginny something that didn't reach her ears. "She'll just send me to class, I don't have a free period," Ginny said, a bit louder.

"And?"

"And I want to know what happens, you prat!" Ginny raised her voice, but as soon as she noticed Harry she forced her eyes back to Ron looking flushed. "Why don't you go?"

"No ruddy way, I've been friends with her longer. You go," Ron answered back. "'Sides, McGonagall would send you to class either way when she gets here."

They exchanged a few more words that didn't reach Hermione, but when Madam Pomfrey turned to them Neville ended the discussion, "I think we should go, Ginny. Professor McGonagall should be able to help her."

Ginny turned to Neville, still frowning, which startled the boy, yet she agreed in the end. "Fine! But you keep these! I can't carry them to Defense class," Ginny said, pushing Hermione's clothes to Ron.

Ron wanted to argue, but he didn't get the chance to do so. After Harry took Hermione's trainers from Neville, Ginny dragged the shy boy out of the Hospital Wing. Once they were gone, Ron turned to the clothes in his hands and his ears went red.

 _Brilliant_. Hermione just hoped her undergarments were properly hidden underneath her coat.

Harry and Ron stayed, looking at Madam Pomfrey's work from the distance. They were avoiding each other, still upset about their stupid row. To Hermione's embarrassment, Ron was fumbling with her clothes, clumsily trying to stop any piece from falling. To her relief, he soon gave up and put everything on a nearby bed, though Hermione didn't want to think what had brought the crimson tone to the boy's face.

"I'm no owl healer, I'll tell you that," Madam Pomfrey said at last, "However, she seems physically fine to me, aside from the fact that she's, well, an owl."

Harry and Ron sighed in relief, though things were far from being alright.

The matron moved her questioning eyes between the two boys, "Can you tell me how this happened?"

With an unpleasant frown, Ron turned to Harry at once. Harry noticed and was about to speak when Ron beat him to it, "It was an accident," Ron said begrudgingly, "We were practising a Transfiguration spell and she got hit by it."

"Which spell?" the matron asked, looking at Ron and Harry suspiciously.

" _Avifors_ ," Harry muttered, still stunned that Ron hadn't singled him out as the culprit. Hermione almost jumped when Harry mentioned that spell again.

"I see. That isn't a spell to be used on humans."

"Yeah, we know that now," Ron said.

Was he serious? Hermione wanted to yell at him that they already knew that, back in second year, when they were first taught the spell. It was literally the first thing Professor McGonagall had mentioned.

Hermione hooted loudly at Ron, who didn't miss her sudden reaction. She felt frustrated. In normal circumstances, she would have voiced her mind a dozen times by now. It turned out that being an owl had also the side effect of making her essentially speechless.

Since she was in no immediate danger, Madam Pomfrey deemed it best to wait for Professor McGonagall, and Hermione found herself staring at the door for an excruciatingly long amount of time. She was getting more anxious by the second. What if Professor McGonagall couldn't turn her back? Would someone else be able to fix her? How was she going to finish her magical education if there was no way out of this? Or tell her parents? Or live for that matter?

The matron soon returned to her desk, leaving her alone with Ron and Harry. The two boys approached her, looking guilty. Hermione, who was finally getting mad, refused to meet their eyes, even when both boys tried to talk to her. There was no point to it anyway, they were as likely to understand her hoots as she was willing to hear from them.

Then, the Hospital Wing opened briskly. The hurried pace and steady voice from Professor McGonagall didn't only make Harry and Ron jump up from their seats but it was enough to alert Madam Pomfrey of the professor's arrival.

"Poppy… by Merlin, please tell me I've been told the most unwise of lies," Professor McGonagall said, as Neville entered the room nervously behind her.

"Wish that were the case, Minerva," answered the matron.

After a sigh of disbelief, the professor set her eyes on Hermione, who was standing in the middle of her bed and was easy to spot. After all, she was the only owl there.

Hermione could hardly control her body, but she managed to flap her wings and hoot, trying to bring even more attention to herself. Her heart had hoped that this would finally be over when she heard Professor McGonagall's voice but, after looking at her troubled expression, Hermione only got even more worried.

_Please let her know the counterspell, please..._

"My goodness, of all reckless wandwork I have ever seen…" she started, bringing Hermione's hopes even lower. The old witch gave a tentative step forward, "Miss Granger?"

"It's her, we're sure of it," Ron said weakly as Hermione hooted some more.

A frown came to the professor as she turned to Ron and Harry with a menacing glare. From the bed, Hermione distinguished Harry's eyebrows shooting up as he gave a doubtful step backwards. The professor's body blocked Ron from Hermione's view, but she was sure she heard him gulp.

"I pride myself on having an outstanding memory, Mr Weasley. And I'm not mistaken when I say I give all the proper warnings about the spells I teach in each one of my classes," the professor said in a hard tone, "So, with that in mind, let me ask. Who do I have to thank for this foolish execution of the _Avifors_ spell?"

"Me, professor," admitted Harry.

"It was an accident," Ron hurried, almost at the same time.

The professor frowned and gave a few steps away as she took off her square glasses so she could rub the bridge of her nose. Then she let out a tired sighed and asked Harry for a detailed explanation.

"The _Avifors_ spell isn't meant for human use, as you ought to have remembered, Mr Potter," she said once they had told her the whole story up to the last detail.

"Yes, professor," answered Harry, looking down. "It wasn't my intention to cast it, much less on Hermione."

"And that's the only reason you're not getting a whole year of detentions," the professor said, "Nevertheless, it won't stop me from taking ten points from Gryffindor."

Harry nodded in resignation.

It wasn't hard for Hermione to realize how bad Harry must have been feeling, but she could spare only the smallest amount of understanding at the moment. She was still upset, and still wasn't even sure if Professor McGonagall would be able to fix her.

"It's stunning that the spell actually gave us these results. It could have turned out way worse than it did. Something I'm certain Miss Granger would be able to tell you, if she could only speak now."

As difficult as it was to see the outcome in a positive light, Hermione knew what her professor meant. She didn't even want to think about what could have happened if Harry had cast an incomplete transfiguration spell.

"You can solve this, can't you? Professor?" Ron asked. Even Madam Pomfrey looked lost and awaiting a positive answer.

"I'll do my best."

And just like that, the curtains closed around Hermione's bed, sealing her with just the professor inside. The last thing Hermione saw before they did was Harry standing as in serious need of something to kick while Ron just stared in her direction, flabbergasted.

A part of her wondered what exactly he was thinking . Ron was worried about her, that much was true, but he could be worried only as a friend. Hermione wanted to know if the boy had feelings for her that went beyond that and, for some mad reason, she chose precisely that moment to feel the biggest anxiety yet at not knowing the answer. As an owl, she was less likely to find out.

It was then that Hermione realized Professor McGonagall was analyzing how to proceed, and she mentally scolded herself. Knowing if Ron fancied her or not was the least of her problems. She also had to think about school and about her parents. And, anyway, there would be no Ron in her future at all if she couldn't get her body back.

_Please let this work, please…_

" _Reparifarge_ is a common tool used to change unsuccessfully transfigured objects back to their original form, I presume you're aware."

Hermione made her best to nod. It was a simple enough spell in its basic form, but it had dozens of complex variations. Even if she could use her wand, the reversal of a case like hers was well beyond her current skills.

Without taking her eyes away from her, Professor McGonagall pulled out her wand. "Don't be disappointed if it doesn't work at first."

A swift examination of her body was made by the professor, who soon pointed her wand at her. Hermione felt as if she were trembling. Even being confident of Professor McGonagall's skills wasn't enough to relax her. What if the professor made a small mistake? What if something worse happened?

" _Reparifarge_ ," the witch called after a convoluted set of wand movements.

A white light shone hard against the curtains, almost blinding Hermione. But, when it was gone, the girl realized that she was still an owl. Hermione turned confused to the professor, and, to her dismay, realized she had tilted her head sideways as only an owl could do.

Professor McGonagall made another attempt, but it was just as unsuccessful as the previous one.

"A tricky case for sure," the professor said, her tone a mix of concern with pure academic curiosity.

Three more times she tried, and the same number of times she failed. One attempt even made Hermione's left wing bigger, which thankfully the professor was able to revert. It was bad enough to be an owl with all her parts equally proportioned.

"I cannot repair this transfiguration," Professor McGonagall sentenced eventually, causing Hermione's already wide eyes to widen even bigger, "Not with this spell at least."

The curtains were reopened, and her friends noticed in disappointment that she still had two wings attached to her sides. Hermione was starting to get terrified. What was going to happen now? What was the next step? Was there even a next step? More than ever, she wished she could run to the library and look for an answer herself.

"It's a complicated case, though not all is lost," Professor McGonagall said, "I'll talk with Professor Dumbledore, see if he can think of anything else. Either way, even if he doesn't know of a solution, I'm confident of this being a temporary condition, by the wandwork I just performed. I will keep monitoring it for as long as it takes."

"How long could she be like this?" Harry asked.

The seconds it took the professor to answer felt slow to a fault, "We cannot be sure. It could be a day, it could be weeks or... even longer."

_Longer? How much longer?_

"But professor—"

"Let me finish, Mr Weasley," Professor McGonagall interrupted, "I have good hopes. These cases are extremely rare, and that means they are well documented. I'll have to study them but it seems to me that the longest one concerned a man who was a prairie dog for not more than two years."

"Two years?!" Ron gasped, looking just as shocked as Harry and Neville.

Hermione's reaction, even if wordless, was worse. She flapped her wings furiously, turning in all directions, as if desperately looking for a way out. For a second, she got a mad image of her doing her O.W.L.s next year as an actual owl. It was quite vivid. A silent classroom filled with students answering their tests as she stood on a desk right in the middle of it, struggling to hold a quill with her clumsy talons.

"Miss Granger, please relax," Professor McGonagall said as the matron grappled with how to proceed with a student that had wings instead of arms, "That's the very worst-case scenario, and I promise I'll do everything in my power to reduce this time to a minimum."

It took a while for her to relax, even after her friends rushed to her bed. At one point Ron suggested he could write her homework for a week, in a tone that made it sound as if that would make everything perfect. Sure, her parents would have to wait for an owl instead of their daughter at King's Cross this year, but all was wonderful because she could now deliver half-assessed essays written in Ron's messy handwriting from now to the start of next week. Delightful.

Hermione couldn't quite believe herself then, because as much as she was trying to murder Ron with a look from her big, round eyes, a part of her noticed how close the boy was and her heart fluttered at the memory of him carrying her so close to his chest.

_Oh, for Merlin's sake! Get a hold of yourself…_

"We should give Miss Granger some time to rest," Professor McGonagall announced, "Physically she's in good health. So, pending a proper assessment from Professor Dumbledore later today, I don't see a reason for her to stay here tonight. Poppy?"

"There's nothing more I can do for her."

"Very well then," said Professor McGonagall.

"So, is she going to classes like an owl?" Neville asked, turning around with uncertainty

The professor nodded, "It's the best we can do right now. We'll sort out the logistics later, but it would be best if this is kept private for the time being. And I, of course, count on her friends to support her in anything that she needs," she finished, giving everyone a look.

"Of course!" Harry said at once, as the other students nodded in agreeance.

"Now off with all of you. Lunch is right around the corner and she'll be better off alone for a few hours."

The three students said their goodbyes and headed towards the door, though Hermione couldn't give them much of a response. She threw a look at Harry and Ron, one that she intended to be hard, but faltered in fear somewhere along the way. Harry replied with a weak smile, but Ron seemed lost in his thoughts as he spared one last stunned look at her, just before he was dragged away from the room.

Soon, Hermione was alone and feeling that the Hospital Wing was impossibly large for her. Madam Pomfrey appeared unsure of what to do, so she just left, telling her to make any noise if she needed anything.

_I might as well get some sleep_

Anything that could distract her from her worries would be thoroughly welcomed, but finding rest turned out to be a lot harder than anticipated. Hermione kept going over her day to day schedule, thinking about how even the smallest of things would change now. How was she even going to carry her books? Or write for that matter? Or open doors?

_An owl! She was an owl. But that was just…just... preposterous._

Hermione wished that she could sigh, or at least do what she remembered as sighing. A part of her wanted to cry as well, and she might have whimpered a couple times, but she wasn't sure if she would be able to produce the tears. Hermione let herself fall in the bed in hopes of getting some sleep as she was mentally overwhelmed. Unfortunately, laying down felt wrong somehow and she just couldn't relax. With some trouble, Hermione stood back up on the bed and, as time passed in the uneventful room, the tiredness finally came to her. She was fast asleep before she knew it.

The midday kip had been short, but replenishing. It helped Hermione to think about what she was going to do next with a much fresher state of mind. However, her reaction was a mixture of surprise and annoyance once she discovered that she had slept standing up, with her head just leaning down slightly.

Madam Pomfrey gave her another check and helped her take care of her body's needs with some vanishing spells, to the girl's embarrassment. She let her know that Harry and Ron had passed by after lunch, and that they had promised to return once the afternoon classes were over.

_Merlin! Did I just miss Potions? But we were going to look at Calming Draught today, and I'm positive that ought to be in the exam!_

The thought didn't leave her, not even after Madam Pomfrey brought her food. It was a small portion of meat with some seeds, it didn't look like much, but it satiated her well enough. Hermione knew owls were birds of prey, but she wasn't about to go hunting for mice any time soon. She would have to do some research into what a good diet for her should consist of.

At one point, Madam Pomfrey brought her a mirror, and Hermione was finally able to see herself. She was a tawny owl. Brown, small and with round black eyes. She guessed it wasn't bad, but the alert look in her own eyes was unsettling, so she didn't spend too much time looking at her new self.

Since she had no books, and her friends were in their classes, the afternoon was mostly boring, at least until Professor Dumbledore arrived escorted by Professor McGonagall. Hermione almost jumped when they walked through the door, and she struggled to walk steadily on the bouncy surface of her hospital bed. She was anxious to know if the headmaster could help her, but willed herself to avoid panic as much as she could. A daunting task by all means, especially considering that she didn't have fingers, couldn't talk, and there were still no real answers as to when she would return to normal.

_Two years. I can't stay as an owl for that long, I just can't._

Regardless of the girl's wishes, the chances to get her body back that very day diminished to almost nothing soon enough. Whatever hope she had still harboured, it puffed away when Professor Dumbledore declared that he couldn't turn her back either. The headmaster was unfazed by the lack of success though, since apparently, he had held few hopes himself knowing of Professor McGonagall's futile attempts. Nevertheless, the headmaster was confident in Hermione's condition indeed being a temporary matter, which provided her with only the weakest form of reassurance.

"It's an unfortunate situation, but believe me when I say that we'll do everything in our means to solve it, and to make your time as an owl as comfortable as possible while we do so," Professor Dumbledore insisted.

Hermione tried her best to nod. It was unnerving how she was unable to voice the dozens of questions that she had. Even so, Professor Dumbledore went on and answered a few of them. He said they would keep the matter private for at least a couple of weeks, in hopes that she would return to normal before that amount of time. He also asked her if she wanted to inform her parents, something Hermione was glad to be able to oppose by raising her left wing.

 _Right wing, yes… Left wing, no._ It was something Professor McGonagall was able to understand soon enough.

It had been odd to her at first, that Hogwarts didn't automatically inform parents of something like this. However, Hermione had come to accept that the wizarding world had different guidelines related to parent-teacher communications. After all, no one had informed her parents about the months she spent petrified in a bed, and thankfully so, as they probably would have considered pulling her out of Hogwarts for that.

_Well, it's not like they can send me to a Muggle school now._

Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall were soon gone, leaving behind only her uncertainty and unasked questions. Hermione decided to stay positive though. She wasn't the kind of person who would whimper and cry about her bad luck passively. Not at all. She would trust whatever the professors were doing for sure, but in the meantime, she was going to look for a solution herself. Even if that meant going to the library and having someone turn every page of every book for her.

Harry and Ron came to pick her up some time after dinner. Ginny was with them since Madam Pomfrey had specifically requested a girl to talk about handling Hermione's bathroom needs.

"It's alright, I'm used to it," Ginny whispered, "We have Errol home and he's been messy inside the house more than once."

The words didn't take away Hermione's embarrassment. Her friendship with Ginny had grown in the last year, and Hermione was already closer to her than to any of her roommates. Even so, it was still an uncomfortable situation, and Ginny was Ron's sister at that.

Whatever the case, there was no way around it, and it was far from the only thing Hermione would need assistance with now.

Soon they had left the Hospital Wing. Ginny had grabbed Hermione's clothes while Ron carried her again, though not as close to his chest as earlier. Something Hermione found annoying for some absurd reason.

As they walked in Gryffindor's tower direction, the conversation went on casually. Mostly because Hermione's friends avoided looking at her as they talked and kept watching over their shoulders. They had agreed not to let more people know about Hermione's condition and it was best if it didn't seem as if they were talking to an owl.

"... and then, the git took five points from Harry! And, I swear, Crabbe's potion was ten times worse!" Ron was rambling.

"Yeah, shocking. Oliver Wood will lose all interest in Quidditch before Snape takes a point from Slytherin. We ought to know that by now," Harry answered.

After spending the day alone in the Hospital Wing, Hermione was glad to have a conversation to follow, even if she couldn't participate. Granted, she would have preferred they focused on the actual experience of making the potion instead of the usual complaints on Professor Snape's behaviour, but she paid them attention just the same.

What really caught Hermione by surprise was the easy way Ron and Harry were going over their tale, as if they had never had any sort of rift. Her attempt at arching her eyebrows must have looked rather intimidating though, for Ron was startled by it.

"Blimey, I really can't tell what you're thinking now," Ron said, turning to Harry and Ginny, "Is she grumpy or surprised?"

"I don't know. That's just her face, I guess," Harry answered.

Hermione tried to say something, which she couldn't of course, then she tried to huff or gesture, though that didn't seem like a safe way of being understood either. Communication was turning into an extremely frustrating affair.

It was Ginny who finally understood Hermione's question.

"They're talking now. As if nothing happened, the pair of prats," she said, rolling her eyes in what must be one of the first times Hermione heard her talking so casually of Harry. Still, she did blush slightly when Harry gave her a look.

It was certainly infuriating to say the least, that Harry and Ron had caused all this and now they were talking as if nothing had happened. It was a good thing for sure, but that didn't mean it wasn't annoying to Hermione that they had to wait until after she had wings to make peace with each other. _Reparifarge_ hadn't repaired her, but at least something had been repaired.

Ron scratched just over his forehead with his free hand, "Err, well, Harry had forgotten all about your message, and I couldn't let him just face those things without knowing, could I?" he said, "I reckon he might not have put his name in that ruddy thing and, well… Does it really matter how it happened? All's good now. It wasn't a big deal."

At his side, Harry shrugged.

_It had never been a big deal! The two of them just made it seem so. That's what I had been trying to… this whole time… Argh!_

"Dragons, I still can't believe it. What am I supposed to do with that?!" Harry blurted, anxiously.

 _The Tournament_. Hermione had almost forgotten about that. She was indeed surprised when Ron first mentioned dragons, after all, they knew practically nothing that could be useful against a challenge like that one. Whoever put Harry's name in the goblet was definitely not his friend.

"We'll think of something, mate. Or at least we'll get you a fireproof hood, to avoid it leaving you unrecognizable," Ron offered, trying to lighten the mood.

Harry snorted, "Why, thank you, very reassuring."

Hermione wished she could tell him that all would be alright, that they would spend their Hogsmeade weekend in the library if they had to. But all she could do was hoot, earning a weak smile from Harry.

"Ehm, Harry?... So, you're still going to Hagrid's? Ron already told you what it was about," Ginny asked shyly.

"I guess so, yeah. I want to see how bad it is with my own eyes."

They all nodded in understanding, and the conversation became far less spirited after.

Hermione stayed silent, thinking of all the books that might provide some sort of help. She soon had a good plan for their reading order, but by the time she thought on how to ask her friends to take her to the library, they had reached the Fat Lady portrait, and the pack of students behind it

" _Cassiawind_ was a terrible name choice," Ron said to her a few hours later.

Hermione was alone with him in a corner of the common room, and he only talked when no one was turning their way. At some point in the evening, Neville had come by to see how Hermione was doing, but he soon left with Ginny. When the time approached for his meeting with Hagrid, Harry had taken his cloak and left as well.

"It's not as bad as _Pigwidgeon_ , mind you. But it's still wrong," the boy continued.

Cassiawind was the name Ginny had given Hermione now that she was pretending to be the girl's owl. It was supposed to mean 'Cinnamon Wind', in a clear reference to her brown feathers. Hermione didn't really mind it, but Ron had been annoyed with it from the start.

Fortunately, everyone in the common room had been going on about the upcoming First Task, so, aside from a couple of minor comments from Dean, no one had really fixed their attention on the new owl for more than just a glimpse. They did ask about her, her human self, but they had a fake explanation rehearsed for that already.

"Hermione went home, a family emergency of some sort," Ron had told Parvati then. "She'll be back in a few weeks."

The common room was more pleasant than being alone at the Hospital Wing, but Hermione soon found out just how difficult it was to communicate as an owl. She could hardly express herself when raising a wing was the only thing she could rely on. She couldn't really change the topic to what she wanted either. Like to how had the ingredients reacted while they brewed the Calming Draught? Or who would be willing to take her to the library? Or why wasn't Ron working on the Charms essay?

Ron seemed to understand her frustration and had tried to help, even guessing what she was thinking a few times. However, at other times, there was little the boy could do besides give her sad smiles.

_He does seem to care... But he's only doing it as a friend. Friends care for each other._

"I mean, you can't even fly," he said, interrupting her thoughts. "And you were always rubbish on a broom, when you were able to grab one. So the ' _Wind'_ part doesn't fit," Ron continued, still going about that name Ginny had given to her. "I understand flying fascination, because of Quidditch, but that's like the last thing in your head."

Hermione made her best to frown at the boy, but he wasn't even looking at her. Quidditch was one of those things that made her think of just how different they were, something that made her doubt if they could really work as anything beyond friends. However, for each thing they didn't have in common, there were several more Hermione knew she could only share with him.

Oblivious to her internal musings, Ron went on, "Cinnamon is wrong too. Your feathers are brown and your hair used to be brown — as if we didn't know that already. But cinnamon has this strong scent, and you smell nothing like that. I guess _Vanillawind_ had no ring to it," he said casually.

In a sudden surprise, Hermione turned to him. She always favoured vanilla scents, but she wasn't aware Ron knew that. Sure, they had been pretty close to one another more times than she could remember, but he never gave any indication that he was noticing how she smelled. Maybe she was getting ahead of herself, maybe he didn't notice, maybe he got that information from Ginny.

Whatever the case, the possibility was big enough to have her wondering. Hermione tried to remember any occasion when Ron might have said anything about the way she smelled, but to her distress, nothing came to her mind. Unfortunately, she wasn't getting anything from Ron now either, since he chose to remain silent after the whole name rant.

_How could one hear something like that and not fret over it?_

When Hermione hooted questioningly at Ron, the boy infuriatingly changed the conversation. COmpletely mistaking the intention of her hoots.

"I know, I know… you want to remind me about the Charms' essay, right? I'll get it done over the weekend, stop nagging me," he said with a teasing smile, he knew she couldn't nag him if she couldn't speak.

Hermione turned away, resigning herself to her bad luck.

It didn't take long for Ginny to come and pick her up and, after a last curious glance at Ron, Hermione was led up the girls' staircase. All the way there, Ginny couldn't stop talking about how excited she was for her first trip to Hogsmeade, however, Hermione found it hard to feel excited about that. She knew that they needed to focus on Harry's task, and there were also more pressing matters, like the fact she was a tawny owl now, for instance.

As Hermione tried to sleep that night, the pesky thought from earlier came back to her. If she had only been human, she might have questioned Ron as soon as he said that cinnamon was a bad name for her. Maybe, she could have used his answer to figure out more about how Ron truly felt about her. Still, she knew that even if he did have any sort of feelings for her that went beyond friendship, there was not much she could do with that information for the time being.

The last thought Hermione had before sleep took her was just how badly she wanted to wake up the next morning in her own body again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Accio


End file.
